


I'll Be Here at Sunrise, Your Lover Who Waits all Night

by rdmlily



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), amazing..., it's literally all fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rdmlily/pseuds/rdmlily
Summary: Hythlodaeus happens upon a slightly misplaced journal belonging to his boyfriend, Feloria. Does he dare read it?
Relationships: Hythlodaeus/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Kudos: 7





	I'll Be Here at Sunrise, Your Lover Who Waits all Night

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Writing fluff? More likely than you think.
> 
> HythWol agenda, GO
> 
> Based on Stardust by Asgeir

"You know, I never really pegged you as the type of person to journal things."

There was a soft hum from across the room in response, almost as if Feloria hadn't really heard him. Hythlodaeus had been hoping that revealing his knowledge of his boyfriend's rather large collection of handwritten journals would have garnered at least a noise of distress. Considering how often Feloria was prone to Hythlodaeus induced distress, it was a wonder he wasn’t at his throat already. They also appeared to be hand bound in… plant fiber? Each tome had the soft feeling of moss almost it, how Feloria might have done that was beyond him and surely they were extremely personal if would go through the amount of care that must take to bind them so. So why was there no flustered fumbling from the other room...

When no response came for several seconds after, Hythlodaeus worried at his lip, tapping the cover of what seemed to be a partially filled volume upon peeking just slightly through the contents. He had been hoping to at least get some sort of reaction, it often amused him, watching his beloved turn shades of red, especially on days where they were simply mulling about. Feloria was currently working with his alchemical equipment however, having apparently promised to help a close friend of theirs with something in Ishgard. Perhaps he was too caught up in his work…

That wouldn't do, not at all.

Hythlodaeus would have his share of embarrassing his boyfriend.

Picking up the tome he walked toward the room just beside the living room that had been filled with these books for some time. Feloria was still tinkering about with the glass flutes and various pieces of what seemed to be his main work equipment. Hythlodaeus cleared his throat, thumping the journal against his free palm, letting a grin color his voice. "I wonder what it is you write so much about. You have quite a few of these, don't you dear?"

There was another quiet hum, though Hythlodaeus could hear a mirrored grin nonetheless. Oh, he was  _ teasing him _ ? Feloria would surely not succeed, there must be something in this journal Hythlodaeus could perhaps use to rile him up. Not even the mention of the sheer miniature library’s worth of quantity could bolster even a hint of pink on Feloria’s cheeks. This was absurd.

He would not lose this.

With a huff, Hythlodaeus thumped the book against his empty hand again before flipping the cover open. A work-in-progress table of contents greeted him, to which he raised a brow. How very like Feloria, and each semi cryptid title for each point of the journal was also much like him as well. Whatever they could have meant, he would love to discover. Even if it  _ didn’t _ cause the author to turn into a stuttering mess, surely an insight into the workings of his mind would suffice. He thumbed to the page that the title of " _ Stardust _ " coincided with, and started to read.

\----

There he stood as I shuffled through the door to the Rising Stones, once again, the fifth or so trip I had made from the Far East just within the last three days. All of the fighting was starting to climax, any and every force we had so far mustered overseas needed weapons, armor, food. Things that the poor and yet now willing soldiers struggled to acquire just day by day, now to have it only to risk it at the whim of  _ strangers _ . Namely one stranger, if rumors that fell between the cracks of dusty inn rooms were true.  _ Me _ , they followed  _ me, _ maybe even to their inevitable dooms. Their lives pressed into my palms like barging chips, tumbling one by one to the wager table until only some few were likely to remain. Like so many things before, it was the only constant. That things remain in  _ my _ hands, the glory, the honor. The blood.

Also constant, however, was him. It seemed Tataru had finally gotten her hands on the measurements of the Scions’ tallest member, because as he stepped toward me this time, the soft click of boots resounded against the stone floors. Coupled with the jiggling of some sort of ornate looking belt and some few other adornments to his robes that now draped open and overtop a rather sophisticated top, one could hear him coming if they surely didn’t see him. Though, at a staggering near eight fulms, one would have to wonder if missing the sight of him was possible amid those who milled about the Rising Stones.

Even though his attire, sparkly and new yet still somehow very  _ him _ was unfamiliar, the smile that slid over his lips was the same as any other time. Gentle, welcoming, as if to say “welcome home”, and to say it didn’t feel like home every time I ran forward through exhaustion to find a way into his arms would be a lie I could never tell. Not a sentiment I ever really thought I would get to share with any one person, regardless I cherished it every time I found myself coming back.

I started to wonder if maybe I came back more to see him than to complete any tasks I needed to do. Not that I could ever admit that, especially not to  _ him _ . Not the way things were, had always been. Not without knowing if he ever felt the same.

I liked to think that the way his arms would just as quickly find their way around me, his body almost hiding me away from the world in those embraces, that perhaps he did feel that way. The way the thrumming of his heart would balance with his breaths, would melt away whatever gods awful things I had seen so far away. I liked to think maybe it meant something when he lingered.

At the time, that constant want seemed some frighteningly frail. That it would shatter with a sudden force.

This time was no different, the lingering fear simply chased from every limb, every corner of my mind, as warmth enveloped almost every inch of me, body and mind. Like a soothing song, his heartbeat resounding through my ears, the gentle heave of his breaths tickling against my hair. His arms like a protective vice, body encompassing every inch of me.

Moments like that had strengthened the fearful frailty of doubt.

Without question, he was always there, waiting calmly for me to come through those doors.

Something about that made the future seem maybe… Not so frightening. Made the blood dripping from my fingertips feel less sacrificial and more honorable. Made the prospect of facing a danger far too unknown a little brighter. There were times when I would come home to the Rising Stones, nearly mangled and as bloody as gore seeker, and still, he would stand there. He would wait, and be there, as I proved myself to those who seemed so keen on discounting me.

He never complained, either, when I would color his evenings with darkness from the Far East, with the tragedy and the horror. He would wait until I was done screaming and wailing, and take me somewhere only we could be. Take me to sweet dreams of open fields and melancholy breezes until he could find my breath again. He always did that, just for me.

So maybe it was okay to think he waited for me for the same reason I always ran into his arms.

Just maybe, I was right about it, even when he seemed so full of mourning himself, that those few moments we could keep to ourselves were exactly what I thought they were. Maybe he felt them too.

I could only hope while in that embrace that would be the last for quite a long time, and then even longer still afterwards… If I had known it then, I might not have ever let him go, might have gotten the courage to tell him before having to disappear from him for too long before I could.

It sat on my tongue for a long while the next day too, as I went to leave him behind again. As he walked me to the Aetheryte, hand warming my own. It hung heavy in my throat as I let myself cry in the plaza of Mor Dhona before leaving. Then it drifted, like a whisper, through the aether as I left for that last time for a long, long time, not that he could have heard it.

_ “I love you, Hythlodaeus. _ ”

\----

The light laughter that broke Hythlodaeus from his stupor must have been a good hint that he was just about as red as he felt he was. A set of hands managed to pry the journal from his own, placing the book tenderly against the table Feloria had been working at, and then finding his face. They were cool and smooth, soft, and pulled Hythlodaeus from his embarrassed fog all too quickly.

“I see you picked the one I was hoping you’d find.” Feloria’s voice was cheery and full of humor, albeit at  _ his _ expense. He had set him up to find that journal! No wonder it was peeking just enough from the small bookcase, it was  _ supposed _ to grab his attention. Feloria was learning too many of his own tricks.

Yet, Hythlodaeus couldn’t find it in him to be jokingly upset or mock hurt, not when Feloria was holding him so, not when the thought of “ _ he loved me even before he remembered anything about us _ ” kept spinning through his mind like a dizzying movie.

Back then, Hythlodaeus had thought that, perhaps, Feloria at least cared about him a little more than he did his fellow Scions. There wasn’t a day that went by when he missed him, when Hythlodaeus would seclude himself, darkness fringing at him and eating away at the edges of his soul. Then, he would walk in, the light that brought him back, raised him from the endless threat of being alone all over again. He had secretly hoped that Feloria had understood what he meant to him, that no matter what, Hythlodaeus would always be there, waiting to open his arms again. To wait through the nights and find him in the morning again.

To think that he actually  _ did _ understand, even just a little, and would have rather stayed by his side instead made the tears he had been ignoring spill over his lashes, falling against Feloria’s hands. Luckily, his beloved was much kinder than himself, and offered no jipes, only soothing swipes at his cheeks. Ever the gentle soul.

When Hythlodaeus pulled himself from the whirlwind, he threw himself into another, hurriedly placing his own hands against Feloria’s cheeks and bringing himself down to crash hasty kisses against his lips. It was only met with more soft laughter and several chasing kisses of his own before they settled on letting their foreheads lay just against one another, eyes locked with one another, a crystal sea of blue staring into a two tone sunset. Reflecting like the sun kissing the horizon.

At least now, they could stay like this, without the travails of war to keep them separated again. They could finally take all the time they could muster to say the words.

“I loved you too, so, so very much.”

Feloria gave him another laugh, a gift better than any bout of embarrassment. “Only then?”

With a soft smile, Hythlodaeus closed the distance between the both of them again, a kiss more tender than he could have ever dreamed, one unlike any other, even from so very long ago.

“Maybe even now, who knows?” A scoff, one that Hythlodaeus could only smile wider at. “I loved you then, millenia ago, and now more than ever.”

Finally, a dusting of pink graced Feloria’s cheeks, peeking just from under Hythlodaeus’s fingers. “I love you, too. I always have…”

The darkening of Feloria’s cheeks at the following onslaught of kisses brought a grin to Hythlodaeus’s lips.

He knew he’d win out in the end.


End file.
